


Cryptid II: The Night Of The Return Of The Wolfwalker From Hell

by LaylanatorXVII, Rogha



Series: Cryptid [2]
Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, shakira is there, there's no good explanation for any of the following but hopefully it will be a fun time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 09:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17097821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaylanatorXVII/pseuds/LaylanatorXVII, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogha/pseuds/Rogha
Summary: Soul Evans was happy enough to live a quiet and unremarkable life with his blind wolf and his roommate and her dog. All of their entire combined friend group and his drunken, treacherous self had different plans. Prank major network television show plans.Resbang 2018.





	Cryptid II: The Night Of The Return Of The Wolfwalker From Hell

Maka capped her sharpie and stepped back to admire her handiwork, wobbling a little. Soul sort of regretted giving her the gold one, given that it wasn’t immediately legible against the floral wallpaper it was written on, but he’d offered it to her and left the others to fight over the remaining colours. 

“Did you know?” Maka said, waving back at the rest of the motley crew. He couldn’t see too many other valuable contributions from other people. Black Star had written his name and drawn a dick for god’s sake. “That the ancient… ancient… old as balls philosophers from-“

“Greece?”

“Rome?”

“China?”

“The Reptiloids?”

“The what?” Patti gawked.

“Lizard people,” Kidd explained, looking pained to do so.

“Jesus, not this again.”

“ _ Anyway,  _ as I was saying… whoever it was -  _ not lizard people, Star -  _ used to argue about things and then argue about them  _ again,  _ but this time drunk so they’d know it was a good idea-“

“Google says it was the Persians,” Liz told them, without looking up from her phone.

“How did you google that so fast?” Kidd asked, but Kidd had a flip phone and not the cool Japanese kind either. 

“Oh, look, there’s a Forbes article about it,” Liz leaned over to show Kid her phone screen, and he took it right out of hands like some kind of barbarian and started to peruse. 

Liz was too shaken to respond, rendered speechless by such an atrocity.

“Oh my god…  _ Anyway as I was saying;  _ if they still thought it was a good idea drunk that meant it was a  _ great idea.” _

_ “ _ I think it was the other way around?” Liz said, scanning the article. “They’d do it sober then drunk?”

“No, I said that.”

“We only debated whilst drunk,” Soul said, causing everyone to look around at the use of the word  _ whilst  _ in conversation. “We haven’t even begun to consider it sober as of yet?”

“Do you think hungover counts?” Pattu said, looking up from her wobbly drawing of a giraffe. Soul thought it was pretty good for a drunk drawing. 

More recogniseable anyway than what he’d drawn in red on the wall, layered lines of Maka’s body as she stretched to write up high and the crease of her brow as she’d focused. 

* * *

THE PLAN

  1. Find out when that rat bastard Noah <<<<USING BLACK STARS INSIDE MAN is coming.
  2. (Egg him.) 
  3. (Mug him and steal his most prized possessions)
  4. (Killllll him) <<< NO MURDERING! ITS AGAINST THE RULES. 
  5. Dress up Souk <<< AND SHAKIRA. DONT FORGET MY BEAUTIFUL BLIND DAUFHTER SHR MUST LOOK TERRIFYING. real fucking good - Liz can do that maybe I think can Liz do that?????
  6. Get caught on camera.
  7. Sell the stor to the New York Times I guess
  8. ?????????
  9. PROFITE. <<<<< FIGHT NOAH 
  10. PROFIT.



* * *

 

Black Star’s inside man wasn’t actually a man at all. That was a figure of speech. She was a once well respected member of the cryptid community, in as far as anyone could be a well respected member of a community regularly lambasted by the world at large. As Black Star told it, it was a tale of intrigue, betrayal and romance.

“Tsu - that short for Tsubaki, which is short for Tsubaki Nakatsukasa, which translates to ‘most badass person you could ever hope to encounter, who also happens to be in possession of what the French call ‘a rockin’ bod’’-” Star started, waving his dark phone screen at them where presumably there had been a photo previously. 

“That is definitely not what that translates to,” Maka said. 

“A tsubaki is a type of flower,” Kidd pointed out, unhelpfully. His boyfriend shushed him frantically. 

“It’s called hyperbole you absolute cretins,” Star said, although Soul wasn’t paying him that much attention. “Didn’t any of you take high school English?”

“You were in my high school English class,” Maka reminded him. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t know what hyperbole was then.” 

“Anyway, the Nakatsukasa Clan -“ 

“What were they? Yakuza?” Maka asked.

“That’s racist.”

“Star, I’m Japanese.”

“Yeah, but only half.”

“In America, that’s the half that counts.”

“True,” Black Star conceded. “Anyway, they’re not yakuza - they’re preppers.”

“Preppers?” Maka asked, cocking her head. Soul’s heart did something in response and he filed it away to analyze never.

“For the eventual apocalypse, you know, bunker builders and stuff.”

“You mean there are people who are hoping to ride out the apocalypse and not just embrace the sweet release of death by world ending catastrophe?” Soul said, absently playing with Shakira’s ears. 

Black Star groaned and fell back onto the ground in a theatrical show of extreme exasperation. 

“Okay, we’re listening Star, tell us about Tsubaki,” Maka soothed vaguely, while checking her email. 

He shot back upright, launching into his take with renewed vigor.

* * *

 

The Rise And Fall Of Tsubaki Nakatsukasa, as told by Black Star, Ultimate Storyteller and Handi-God. 

_ Once upon the interwebs there was a young girl who liked nothing more than editing Wikipedia. Now this young girl was from a very mysterious Japanese family, The Nakatsukasa Clan, who liked to do things like Live Deep In The Woods and Take Boy Scout Skills To The Absolute Extreme.  _

_ As a result, like a certain someone else I could mention but I won’t because I’m being discreet as all hell - it’s Soul - the woods the Nakatsukasa family inhabited became known as a haunted spooky woods, first locally, then nationally, then it was like a whole big thing and they were getting tourists and exorcisms and everything. And that made the Nakatsukasa Clan retreat further into the forest and booby-trap the shit out of it and the more they did that the more he story spread the more people came the more they retaliated against the encroaching line of adventure tourists and weirdos, etcetera etcetera ad infinitum.  _

_ Y’all it was wild.  _

_ Anyway, the Nakatsukasas had no idea this was what was going on, because their only internet connection was the dial up in the local library and Tsubaki was the only one who used it, again, to edit Wikipedia articles and cross reference the information in the books. Eventually, she decided to branch out to other Wiki’s and the name PrettyLittleFlower became a household name. _

_ In some households. Households that were populated solely by Wiki aficionados and their friends who were willing put up with them, I guess. Anyway, point is, PrettyLittleFlower was gaining some respect and recognition and people didn’t immediately correct her edits. Which is kind of a big deal, if you knew anything about Wikipedia, which y’all don’t because you’re what we in the business of wikis call ‘academia snobs’ and think Wikipedia is a lawless place populated by utter imbeciles.  _

_ So, she eventually made her way to the Cryptidz wiki, which, as y’all know is the most up to the minute and reliable source of cryptid information available at any given time, where she discovered the reason she had to spend her nights rigging traps and throwing knives at tourists who were getting just too close to her family was because they were now super famous in certain circles, those circles being mainly cryptid and ghosthunting circles, because no one was super sure what was in that forest but everyone agreed that it was hella supernatural. So Tsubaki did they only thing she could which was to go to her father, who was like, batshit crazy and fucking sick of all these white people wandering around the woods and tell him they needed to stop living in the goddamn woods and like… go rejoin civilization properly, or something.  _

_ Her dad was all like ‘no child of mine is ever rejoining civilization, now go sharpen some knives or something equally violent because your brother is possessed by a demon and you need to kill him’ and she was all like… ‘I’m not killing my brother, even if he is possessed, I’m going to the library’ and so with the journalistic integrity that PrettyLittleFlower was known for she goes in Cryptidz Wiki and edits the whole damn page for the haunted forest, putting her entire family as weird forest dwellers and also that her brother might be possessed by a demon because at this stage she doesn’t know what to believe. If the legend of the forest is just her and her family living their best lives what other things on the internet are just made up? Can any Wiki really be trusted?  _

_ Then she goes home, realizes her brother is possessed by an actual demon which restores her belief but it does mean that she is obligated to kill him. But even though the story breaks, like, immediately because of Wiki, that there’s just a crazy family living up in them there woods, nobody believes that and also no one really wants to go in and check because also apparently all the land does belong to a Nakatsukasa family so like… if they’re there everyone’s been trespassing and if not… it’s fucking monsters or ghosts or some shit so everyone is like ‘that’s a hoax the woods is haunted for sure’ and PrettyLittleFlower is banned from Wiki forever for betraying everything Wiki stands for and also the hearts and trust of her people. _

_ Her Wiki people, not like her actual family, who don’t know anything because they don’t have the Internet.  _

_ So she’s like, okay bye guys it’s been fun I have to like, make my fortune or whatever and she ended up working for Noah. _

_ Whose like a total dick but hey, a paycheck’s a paycheck’s a paycheck. Especially when you are like… so much of an illegal alien you don’t even legally exist at all anywhere. So, anyway, that’s how me’n’Tsubaki met. _

* * *

 

Soul was pretty sure he was lying about the whole ‘brother possessed by an actual demon so Tsubaki had to kill him,’ thing, though.

It was probably a heavy handed metaphor for something, since Black Star was on such a high school English class kick at the moment. 

“Black Star,” Maka said, interrupting Soul’s train of thought, which was mostly about whether or not he could analyse the story enough to figure out what ‘killing your possessed brother’ was a metaphor for. “You didn’t actually tell us how you met Tsubaki.”

“Oh, yeah, we were penpals, like, but through email,” Star explained, very carefully, as though the concept of email penpals was especially difficult to grasp. “So it’s like being penpals, but there’s no actual pen or paper or letters, and you just write each other emails.”

* * *

 

To: ‘Tsubaki Nakatsukasa: <pr3tty.l1ttl3.fl0w3r@domainname.org>'

From: ‘Black Star: <blackstarrrrrrrrrrr@domainname.com>'

Subject: new cryptid? 

Ur Japanese right? Me 2 XD, but I cant read this article…. could u translate??? pretty pretty please? :P ill bake u cookies! (“,)

ATTACHED (1): badlyscannedarticle.jpg

* * *

 

To: ‘Black Star: <blackstarrrrrrrrrrr@domainname.com>'

From: ‘Tsubaki Nakatsukasa: <pr3tty.l1ttl3.fl0w3r@domainname.org>' 

Subject: re: new cryptid? 

of course! i was actually able to find the actual magazine in the libaray! 

P.S.I'm gnonna send u a bunny once  a day!   
  {( ) (  )}   
  \\( *;*  )/   
  ( )[o]( )

ATTACHED (1): ningentranslation.doc

* * *

 

“Wes, I need a favour.”

Soul wanted it made very clear that despite what he may have been filmed yelling while he was drunk, this was not his idea. In fact, let the record state he was completely and utterly steamrolled into enacting this harebrained plot. 

He doesn’t have time for all this weird favour trading to get this done - he’s got things to do. Aunts to visit. Wolves to walk. He can’t believe they’re making him call his brother. 

“Soul, are you okay? What happened? Cough twice if they’re holding you hostage,” Wes was frantic, halfway between joking and serious, because Soul hadn’t called him since he called him from hospital because he got in a very minor motorcycle accident that almost, maybe killed him and he was a missing person for the entire two days he was in a coma. It was no big deal. 

Soul coughed twice, because he was an asshole.

“Soul, don't be an asshole,” Wes said, immediately relieved. “But seriously, why are you calling me?” 

“Because I need a favour,” Soul said. 

“You said that already.”

“Or seven.”

* * *

 

Soul had often said that if it wasn’t for the fact that Wes’s successful career as a violinist would be potentially ruined by doing so, he would be a successful drag queen. 

Wes, aware Soul had said this often, and seeing no reason not to risk ruining his successful career as a classically trained concert violinist, decided to give being a drag queen a go anyway. 

Despite the fact that it was  _ Wes  _ who had made the choice to be a drag queen, Soul had a sneaking suspicion that his parents blamed him for bringing even more shame upon the family name because in their defense, it had been Soul who put the idea in his head. In fact, it wasn’t so much a sneaking suspicion as it was a distinct memory of his mother, wine drunk and draped rather melodramatically over what was officially termed a swooning couch.

“Darling, did you have to say that quite so often where he could hear you,” his mother liked to over enunciate when she’d been drinking, or when she was lying. It was a trait they shared, unfortunately. “Wes is very easily led, you know.”

Soul had looked at his mother, wine glass in hand and reclining on the plush velvet of, again,  _ the swooning couch,  _ and left the room before he could say that as theatrics went; Wes hadn’t licked them up off the ground. 

* * *

**CRYPTID CATALOGUE (Verified)**

RENEWED FOR S5! This season Noah and his team will be tackling El Chupacabra, The Wolfwalker and many more! #Cryptozoology #CryptidCatalogue

* * *

_ “ _ How many dogs can we borrow from the pound?” Soul asked absently, looking between The Plan - scrawled on his wall in a mix of handwriting and colored Sharpie ink - and where Shakira and Hercules were curled together on the largest dog bed Soul had been able to find on amazon. 

“I don’t know… they have a volunteer program so that people can come take them for walks,” Maka said from where she was sitting at the table, books spread around her like offerings to the god of last minute essay writing. Her laptop cast an eerie glow on her face. “Why?”

“What if… “ Soul paused, because he felt like this was a dramatic moment and he wanted it to have the gravitas it deserved.

“We had more than one Wolfwalker?” Maka said absently. “Me and Star were talking about it last night - didn’t we tell you?”

“No.”

“It’s a great idea though,” Maka assured him, looking back at her probably blank document if the sound of furious backspacing was to be believed. “You know what they say - great minds think alike?”

“But fools rarely differ,” Soul muttered.

“What?” Maka looked up again, puzzled.

“Nothing,” Soul said quickly. “It doesn’t matter.”

* * *

**Wes Evans:**

Okay, let me get this straight...

**Soul Evans:**

uve never done anything straight in ur life

**Wes Evans:**

Pot, Kettle.

**Soul Evans:**

ur just mad i made the joke befor u could get to it

**Wes Evans:**

You’re right and you should say it.

There.

Happy now?

**Soul Evans:**

exceedingly

**Wes Evans:**

Anyway. You want me to dress up like you, walk around at night with your dog, try and get caught on camera for a television show you have a personal vendetta -

-with for doubting you exist as a cryptid, even though you don’t exist as a cryptid. And you want to do this because you got drunk one night and agreed it would -

-be funny, even though you think it’s a terrible idea you don’t want to disappoint your friends and also you wrote on the wallpaper so it might be legally -

-binding and if you don’t do it your friends will hate you so much that they’ll not only leave you forever and also take at least your dog and maybe your wolf -

-but also sue you.

**Soul Evans**

yea that about sums it up

**Wes Evans**

You need to deal with your anxiety issues.

* * *

 

Soul and Wes bore a passing resemblance, enough of a resemblance that sometimes people stopped him in the street to ask if he was Wes, and if they were polite enough about it, sometimes he admitted to being his brother. Soul didn’t always understand it - he had a couple of inches on his brother, something that Wes had taken very hard when it happened, and their colouring wasn’t quite the same. 

It was hard to tell, especially if you were more familiar with Wes all dolled up as Ms. Starr Hyde, who neither liked to admit to looking anything at all like either of them but would confess under duress to bearing an uncanny resemblance to a caricature their mother had gotten done at party once when she was tipsy enough to find that kind of ‘low-brow’ seaside activity funny. 

But it was enough of a resemblance if, perhaps, Soul wanted to take advantage of it, he could. He’d snuck into moderately exclusive clubs before, crashed a wedding or two. Mostly gay ones, but those were infinitely more fun than the parties of people who recognised Wes because of his classical violin playing. 

If he wanted to wear a suit and eat hors d’oeuvres he’d go hang out with his parents. 

Certainly enough of resemblance that someone who wasn’t him could also suspiciously walk a large dog late at night and also be recognised as a cryptid, if you were someone who was in the business of looking for cryptids.

* * *

 

Bringing the groceries in our if the car was a production. It was a Herculean task, and not just because Hercules had a tendency to lie in the middle of the driveway, glaring unflinchingly at the car no matter how much the horn was beeped. 

No. It was bags of food, and Shakira, the bottomless pit, and her trusty side kick, Hercules, also very hungry but no other food jokes are coming immediately to mind, wanted the bags of food. It was Mission Impossible: Unpack The Shopping. It was people food, the almost forbidden treat.

Almost forbidden, but not totally.

* * *

 

“Okay,” Liz wasn’t looking up from her phone, but Patti was watching them to make sure they were all listening. Soul didn’t know where Liz and Patti lived, exactly, but he did know that it wasn’t in his fucking house. And yet, it felt like they were here more and more everyday. So was everyone. The whole group was here right now, ignoring Kidd as he tried to convince them to play Dungeons and Dragons with him. “So our agent - “ she waved a hand between herself and Patti.

“ _ You have an agent?”  _ Kidd said, distracted from his mission.

“You don’t?” Soul asked. Granted, he wasn’t sure what his agent was doing these days, now that he worked as a graphic designer. He’d emailed Harvar to tell her that he’d done some recording recently. Honestly, him and his agent had an agreement that he was allowed pretend that he was doing a terrible job booking him gigs as long as he got to keep ‘the most useless’ Evans on his books. 

Harvar was cool, the only one of Soul’s exes he was on good terms with. 

“ _ You have an agent?”  _ That one was Liz, and she was not happy.

“Don’t most people?” Soul asked, just now realising that maybe he and Harvar had something not everyone had - an agent client relationship. 

“Oh, my sweet summer child,” Black Star looked away from where he was busy reassuring Kidd not to worry, that tabletop roleplaying games really are very cool and that everyone will want to play. Soul kind of wanted to play.

“Anyway, me and Patti’s agent - “

“Isn’t your mom your agent?” Maka asked, absently. 

“That was when we were on the Disney channel.”

“ _ You were on the Disney Channel!?”  _ Kidd was being torn further and further from the task at hand - convince everyone to go kill imaginary monsters. But Soul hadn’t known that either, and he’d been on the Disney Channel when he was a kid.

It wasn’t really that big of a deal, was it?

“So was I.”

“ _ You were also on the Disney Channel?” _

It was a bigger deal than Soul had previously anticipated. It wasn’t like he was Zac Efron or Zendaya. He also hadn’t been arrested, which was about as high as the expectations for former Disney Channel actors went. Literally no one remembered a minor villain from a handful of episodes of a show about a super-spy high school. 

“Anyway, our relationship with our mom is strictly non-professional these days,” Liz continued, still not looking up from her phone. “But the most important thing is that our agent got in touch with some people, reached out, made some offers and someone’s bitten.”

“Bitten what?”

Liz pointed at The Plan in all its glory. Specifically she pointed at item six, which in layman’s terms was ‘break the story’. Get the truth out. Let the people know. Hopefully to the New York Times. 

“Oh… who is interested?” Soul asked casually, trying to drown out the sound of his heart beating to the stattaco tune of:  _ newyorktimesnewyorktimesnewyorktimesnewyorktimes-  _

“Couple of Youtubers?” Liz shrugged, swiping at her phone to find out more details for them.

“Youtubers?”

“Is it Buzzfeed Unsolved?” Black Star was pulled away from gently comforting Kidd again.  _ Was it Buzzfeed Unsolved?  _ “No offense babe, but Shane and Ryan are on my list.”

“That’s fair.”

“You think I have those kind of connections?”

“A guy can dream,” Black Star sighed softly, melting into the table a little. 

“No, but we did manage to grab Kim Diehl!” Liz announced, obviously expecting a much different reaction than the one she got. The one she got was a lot of confused, even blank, staring. “She’s a beauty and witchcraft blogger, she’s actually a pretty big deal -”

“Beauty and witchcraft?”

“Beauty is witchcraft, bro, if we trace the history of make-up back through the ages -“ 

“She was, like, the only person even remotely interested,” Liz read, frowning. “We’ll have to put her up though.” 

“Oh, okay, fair enough,” Soul said. “I can do that. I have like, a wholeass house.”

* * *

 

_ CAPTIONED YOUTUBE VIDEO : WOLFWALKER CRYPTID CAUGHT ON CAMERA!! NOT CLICKBAIT! _

_ KIM: This is so exciting! [she is packing a suitcase, piling things very hazardly, (if this transcriber had to guess she’d say that Kim is above such things as ‘baggage weight restrictions)] I can’t believe I have to keep this a secret for so long! You guys are going to be so mad at me when I finally release this video! Y’all think I can’t keep a secret, and you won’t even believe when this all comes to fruition! Jackie!  _

_ [KIM holds up a hand mirror to reflect her camerawoman’s image] _

_ [JACKIE blushes and gives the thumbs up, the shot wavering as she adjusts her grip] _

* * *

 

Soul was making up the bed in the spare room for Kim and Jackie, when they came. It used to be that he had two spare rooms, but it turned into one spare room when Maka moved in, and now even that was occupied. By two closeted lesbians who weren’t even that much in the closet.

It wasn’t good to be gay in the beauty guru industry unless you were a man. It was a professional closet.

At least they hadn’t insisted on separate rooms. If they wanted separate rooms they could go to a hotel, and Soul couldn’t even recommend one in the area. Who knew what their local hotels were? Not Soul. That was what google was for. He was surprised that he had to host at all. 

Surely this was what airbnb was for. 

He didn’t even have any bedsheets for this bed. Why didn’t he have bedsheets for the bed in the spare room?

Well, he didn’t not have bedsheets for it. The bedsheets just weren’t to his taste - technically he had bedsheets that didn’t appeal to his aesthetic out the wazoo. A whole airing cupboard of them. 

The whole house was kind of not his ideal aesthetic to begin with and he hadn’t felt like he could really do anything about it until recently enough. And even then, most changes were made with the excuse of wolfproofing the place. 

He had bought himself a couple of new sets for the master bedroom, which used to be Aunt Edie’s, but was now his. But he hadn’t really considered the other rooms when he’d been scouring the town for soft, cotton and aesthetically appealing sheets. He lived alone. He didn’t really have any friends. The airing cupboard, again, was full of sheets. 

Maka, in the first spare room, but not the only spare room, had brought her own with her. He’d seen them, they were nice. Very cute and very ikea. Botanical illustrations, which were different to florals, and cutely illustrated llamas. A higher poly-blend and much more pastel than he liked, but each to their own. 

She’d also bought herself a new mattress in the past few weeks, but considering the state of the old one, he couldn’t blame her. He’d put it out on the porch for the Shakira and Hercules for a while, but even they wouldn’t deign to sleep on that thing, lumpy and creaky enough to keep even the soundest sleeper awake, so eventually he’d taken it out to the incinerator.

However, neither he nor Maka had bought new bedsheets for this bed, and he was kind of regretting that choice. So much of this house still read as the home of an elderly woman, but the spare room with the floral bed skirt and matching sheets wasn’t doing him any favours. And he wasn’t going to not use the matching throw pillows. 

He wasn’t some kind of barbarian.

But still, as long as no one else wanted to stay, or had strong opinions on his elderly grand-aunt’s taste in bedsheets, they’d manage.

* * *

 

_ You have two new messages. _

_ Beep. _

_ “ _ Hi, this is Annette from Bayview Retirement, just calling to know that Edith Evans checked herself out this morning, against our advice and the advice of her doctors.”

_ Beep. _

_ “ _ Soulie? Is that you? I’m coming home. I’m going to die under my own roof and that’s final.”

_ Beep _

_ “ _ Soulie, could you have a look around for my old address book? I think I left it in the desk.” 

_ You have no new messages. _

* * *

 

Shakira had her head in the space his crossed legs made. She used to fit her whole body in that space, but that was a long time ago. She twitched as she dozed, dreaming of unattended peanut butter jars left in reach and Soul absently scratched behind her ears.

His legs were going to be very dead, if she didn’t wake up soon. He’d also be late to pick up Jackie and Kim.

* * *

 

_ “ _ Jesus Kim this suitcase weighs a ton!”

“I’m above petty mortal things like ‘baggage weight restrictions,” Kim said, tossing her hair as she reached for the handle. It was the kind of glamorous luggage that had four wheels instead of two, but Soul didn’t think it’s would fare any better on his pitted driveway than the two wheeled, much more modest luggage that Jackie had packed.

He didn’t voice his concerns, but he did awkwardly wave at the camera Jackie had suddenly trained on him.

Kim winced.

“I thought you said you’d trained him!” 

“You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, Kim,” Liz said, gesturing in such a way as to make Soul conclusively certain that he was the sow’s ear. “I did my best!”

“Jesus,” Kim said. “At least he’s pretty.”

Soul dragged the four wheel suitcase up the drive, hoping to to get close enough that Jackie couldn’t catch Shakira customary greeting on film and then put it up on the Internet for the whole world to see.

He wasn’t so lucky.

* * *

 

_ CAPTIONED YOUTUBE VIDEO : WOLFWALKER CRYPTID CAUGHT ON CAMERA!! NOT CLICKBAIT! _

_ [WHITE HAIRED MAN dragging KIM’s luggage is tackled to the ground by a large husky-type dog.  _

_ JACKIE sprints with camera. _

_ KIM (off-camera: Did you get that?! _

_ WHITE HAIRED MAN -not as old as previously suspected- : *groans, cheeks red and pets the dog* _

_ DOG: *continues licking WHITE HAIRED MAN’s face* _

_ KIM: Please tell me you got that. _

_ JACKIE: *out of breath* I got it. _

_ KIM: *moves into view* Anyway, you may not believe it, but this guy is the Wolfwalker! And my good friend Soul. _

_ CUT.] _

* * *

 

“We just met, like an hour ago.”

Soul scratched behind Shakira’s ears, pushing at her gently to encourage her to let him stand up again. She did not.

“And I’m going to be living in your house house for the next six weeks so, filming this whole scheme of yours -“

“It’s not my scheme.”

Shakira either relented or noticed the two whole strangers near her and shied away, allowing Soul to wriggle out and pick up the luggage. She pushed her face into the crook of his knee. Soul wobbled but he was used his wolf pushing into his knee and managed not to be taken down by his pet a second time in a many minutes.

“-So the least you can do is pretend we already know each other.”

“This was literally set up by you and Liz’s agents,” Soul said, being purposely facetious. He’d liked living on his own. Sort of on his own. Him and his wolf and his dog and his Maka. 

They didn’t count.

Now he had all these home invaders. Some of whom he couldn’t even charge rent in good conscience, but who didn’t look like they were spoiling for rent money if the luggage was anything up go by.

“Liz… this had better be worth all the editing I’m going to have to do…”

“I do all the editing.” Jackie interjected quietly.

“You do and I love you for it,” Kim said.  

That would have to be cut, of course.

* * *

 

“Soulie, what in God’s happened happened while I was away?”

Edie was here.

Great Auntie Edie was in his house.

Wait. 

This was her house. 

Great Aunt Edie was in her own house.

Was she going to turf them all out. Technically Soul might actually be squatting. Well, Edie did know that he was there, so at least here was that. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure about even that actually, when he thought about it. 

Even if she did know that he was living there, she didn’t know he was renting out a room to a friend (at an unreasonably reasonable rate) and he definitely didn’t have permission to that.

His mom had just tossed him the keys when he’d mentioned getting a job in Seattle. Well not so much tossed him them but let him know the code of the lockbox and told him to stay there. Was that supposed to have been a temporary thing? Should he have tried to find somewhere else to live and moved out after a reasonable adjustment period? 

Literally the only thing she’d said, with regards to the house in Seattle, as opposed to the many things she’d said not relating to the house in Seattle was ‘don’t touch anything, for the love of god, she’s not dead yet’. He’d touched so many things.

She had even told him to go visit her, which Soul had done because he wasn’t such a terrible as to live in the home of an elderly, nursing home bound relative without a least talking to her sometimes.

Oh my god. 

The ceramics, the ones he’d moved up to the attic. 

The eight foot tall chain link perimeter fence  the government made him install to keep his blind wolf, his blind antisocial perpetually terrified wolf from escaping.

The Plan that was literally written on the wallpaper in sharpie marker. 

The bath.

The dog.

The wolf.

_ The lesbians.  _

Elderly rich white people didn’t have the greatest track record when it came to loving and respecting the human rights of lesbians. They weren’t even in that deep in the closet. 

It was more like they were in a glass fronted cabinet. Sure, technically it was a closet, but you could see right into it. They weren’t exactly subtle. The metaphorical glass wasn’t even frosted. But maybe that’s because he had already been hanging out with a gay couple when they arrived.

Black Star and Kidd, fuck, he hadn’t even thought of them. Two gay couples, under one roof with an old rich white lady. 

Technically Kidd and Black didn’t even live here, but only technically. They were here at least four days a week. They had a fob to the electric gate and a key. 

At least there was no evidence out there to support that he wasn’t straight. At least he had that. It wasn’t very heartening. Being in the closet in your own home was a big old bag of dicks. 

Where was she going to live? Apart from here. It was her house. 

God, he lived in the master bedroom. That was Edie’s room. Before he ever lived there. Probably before he was even born. And that was where she wanted to die. Where he slept. Where she slept. He’d have to give it back.

Just so she could die in it.

He was definitely changing the bedsheets to one of her sets as soon as he could.

But that’s where he kept all of his things. His clothes. His personal effects. That was where he slept.

Where was he going to sleep?

Where was Shakira going to sleep? 

Jackie and Kim were in the guest room. Maka was in her room. He couldn’t exactly toss the octogenarian out on the street. Out of her own home. He’d have to give her back her room. There was no other options. 

Which brought him back to the issue at hand, where the fuck was he going to sleep?

* * *

 

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* * *

Reduced to a camp bed in your own home. Not that he’d kick anyone out on the street, because technically he it wasn’t his own home. And even if it was, he was a good enough host to know that if anyone is sleeping on a camp bed in your own home, it is you.

So there he was, on his camp bed, in his ‘study’, in his home office, for days when he didn’t want to go to work and remembered that as long as he emailed them something by five he’d be okay. His computer was only slightly precarious on the secretary desk.

He was supposed to be asleep, and yet, here he was, on his phone, curled into the fetal position while Shakira took up the entire bottom half of the camp bed so his knees were intimately acquainted with his chin in a way that they never had been before now. It was less than ideal. Soul rolled over as best as he could, ignoring Shakira’s complaints.

* * *

 

ONE NIGHT ONLY

Ms. Starr Hyde at the Mayday.

Supported By Nimble Digits.

Doors Open At 7

Cover - 15

2 Drink Minimum.

* * *

Wes could afford an Airbnb. If any of them could afford not to sleep in Soul’s- no, Edie’s overcrowded house, it was Wes. Wes could, would and most certainly had been made get an Airbnb. He was successful in his own very specific field of playing classical violin and also doing drag. Sometimes both at the same time, if he thought he could get away with it.

This was one of those times, and Soul, because he was a good brother, unlike some brothers who only ever FaceTimed when they wanted to see his wolf. So therefore, Soul found himself in a crowded gay bar, watching Wes perform violin covers of Taylor Swift songs in shoes that looked like the took upwards of three people to get them on. 

He’d even brought his friends, his interlopers, and his elderly great aunt. She was also Wes’s elderly aunt, but he hadn’t paid for the extra large Uber to get her here so that didn’t count. She was your aunt when you were the one paying for the Uber. Them’s the breaks, son.

God, he’d brought his elderly, not overtly homophobic or maybe not observant enough to be bothered by ‘gal-pals’ Kim and Jackie living in her house, to a  _ gay club.  _ Whatever about not noticing lesbians in your own home, whatever about your bisexual great nephew not setting off any red flags… probably, just maybe, the great-nephew in full drag lip syncing to ‘Blank Space’ might set off an alarm bell.  

Then again -

“Oh it’s so nice and lively here, Soulie!” Edie crooned, wavering a little. He wasn’t sure it had been a good idea to give her a gin-and-tonic, but it had been hard to say no. Also he didn’t know how to say no to anyone to begin with. It was the cause of most problems in his life. Adopt a dog? Sure. Can I move in? Absolutely. Why don’t we prank a major network television show? Sounds like fun. God. He was the article of his own downfall. He was a modern-day Shakespearean Tragedy hero. He was... 

“When is Wesley on?”

Not having another drink for at least a while,

In answer to that though, Soul hoped not soon, because Nimble Digits was a brass band and Soul had never met a brass band he didn’t like. Brass bands were like that. There was something very charismatic about people who had decided to try out honking each other in a companionable way. They were doing such a good job.

He didn’t say that out loud, what he said instead was: “Soon, Edie, be patient.”

It was a terrible idea to be here at all. Wes was lucky he loved him. Apart from the whole cover, two drink minimum thing, fifty percent of the party were moderately internet famous, so they were all getting squinted at very suspiciously. It could’ve have been the elderly woman though. Honestly it could have been anything really, the whole dang lot of them stuck out like a hand of sore thumbs. 

The stuck out like straight people, which was honestly a very hurtful epiphany. There was a bachelorette party right over there in the corner. 

Well, except Kidd and Black Star, who were chatting amicably with the bar man because he recognised Kidd from yoga. They didn’t stick out all all, and may have helped them blend a little of they stood over near them.

* * *

 

“Soulie?”

“Yes, Aunt Edie?”

“It’s so nice that you have so many friends.”

“Sure is.”

“Especially those two girls.”

“Liz and Patti?”

“No, the other ones.”

“Jackie and Kim?”

“They’re so close. I used to have friends like that.”

“Sure you did, Edie. Would you look at that, it’s time for Jeopardy!”

“Oh! I love Jeopardy!”

“I know you do.”

* * *

Soul was in work when his phone rang, actual work, not at home work. His boss had even commented that he’d been doing so much more work… in work… not from home these days.

Yeah, that was because his whole house had been taken over by weirdos who insisted on filming everything and then on getting mad at him for being so bad at being filmed and elderly relatives. Well, Edie was just one elderly relative, but she felt like three.

She kept trying to be independent, and move and carry things, which, you know. She couldn’t even manage the stairs. The stairlift was being used for it’s actual intended purpose again. I was stressing him out. That and the constant overhanging fear that she would kick them all out. 

And her constant talk of death, which might toss him out on the street anyway. 

Her dying, that was. 

Not talking about it. 

She kept making him organise things.

They’d designed a tombstone the other day. That was always… fun.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Killik asked, nodding at the phone.

“Yeah,” Soul said, picking up the phone and making his way to the corner of the room with the best cell service. “Hi, Maka.”

“Soul?”

“Yeah?” Soul asked.

“Are you at home?”

“Yep,” Soul popped the p, like a liar. “What did you forget?”

“I didn’t forget it!” Maka insisted, and she was probably right. She didn’t usually forget things. “I just didn’t think I needed my lab coat today - we don’t usually have labs on a Tuesday, but Stein grabbed me outside Doctor Gorgon’s class because one of the elephants in the zoo died and he wants us to - “ 

“Okay, okay,” Soul said. “I’m not sure I want to know what that man is going to do to that poor dead elephant.”

“He’s just going to perform an autopsy.”

“That’s not better than not knowing.”

“Anyway, he said I could assist if I had my labcoat, so I lied and told him I did - “

“And you can’t ask to borrow one?”

“Would you give up a lab coat if not giving it up would put you one step closer to a dead elephant?”

“...No?”

“Exactly!”

“I’ll meet you at the zoo,” Soul said, signaling to Killik that he’d be back later. “Where is it?”

“It’s hanging in my wardrobe! Thank you so much, Soul, I owe you one!”

* * *

 

_ CAPTIONED YOUTUBE VIDEO : WOLFWALKER CRYPTID CAUGHT ON CAMERA!! NOT CLICKBAIT! _

_ KIM: Okay, I’m going to show you I made the prosthetic pieces for Soul, using his brother Wes as an example. Wes is going to be another Wolfwalker for the night.   _

_ WES [handsome, charming, 600% better at being on camera than his brother]: I’m Wes Evans - I’m a concert violinist and I also perform as the drag queen Ms. Starr Hyde.  _

_ KIM: I was shook when I found out about Soul’s brother - I am such a huge fan of Wes here, and I can’t believe Soul kept the whole thing under wraps for so long… _

_ WES: You mean that idiot brother of mine didn’t immediately name drop his successful, handsome older brother to his beautiful young friends? _

* * *

“Wes, you know I don’t swing towards that inclination!” Kim joked, spritzing Wes’s hair with water in order to try forcing it under a bald cap.

“Cut,” Jackie sighed, lowering the camera before Wes could fire off a rapid fire retort. “If you want to stay in the closet Kim… you have to… stay… in... the closet…”

Kim peeled off the bald cap and Wes ran a hand through his hair to make it stylishly unkempt. Soul looked on jealously from where he was holding the boom mic - his hair never looked stylishly unkempt. It just looked regular unkempt. Also, is arms were starting to hurt. This had to be the twenty-somethingth take. 

How did Kim get anything done if she couldn’t stop being overtly homosexual for long enough to film? Soul suspected it was Wes. He was like an amplifier for queerness. Soul himself had made like, seven bi jokes since this morning. 

Not that they were particularly good bi jokes. But they were jokes about being bi and in particular him being bi and frankly what more did people expect? 

If they wanted quality humour they could go watch John Mulaney’s Netflix comedy special like the rest of humanity. 

But anyway, hopefully Wes could tone down his secret super power of making people, like, super comfortable in their sexuality for like, a half an hour. His arms were starting to hurt.

* * *

 

_ CAPTIONED YOUTUBE VIDEO : WOLFWALKER CRYPTID CAUGHT ON CAMERA!! NOT CLICKBAIT! _

_ KIM: Wes is technically similar enough in face shape and structure to Soul- _

_ [The camera swings around to SOUL, who is doing his best to hold a boom mic steady but smiles and waves awkwardly at the camera before it swings back to KIM and WES] _

_ -that we could just recast Soul’s prosthetics, but where’s the fun in that? On top of that, having variation in our sculpts is going to bring a level of depth to the characters that we just can’t achieve with recasting. And on top of that, I wanted to show y’all how to make a full face cast, since we’ve never done that.  _

_ I mean, I’ve done it before and I have a cast of my own face that I use all the time, but I’ve never done it on the channel before. _

_ WES: Didn’t you cast Soul’s face? _

_ KIM: We, uh, lost that foootage - but it’s okay, because now I get to do it again. _

* * *

 

Soul didn’t know the full story of the face cast. He knew some of the story, but he didn’t really think any one of them would ever know the full and true account of what happened to Soul’s face cast. 

Kim and Jackie had done their best to film the process of Soul and the face cast, despite his terrible television manner. 

“How did you get on the Disney Channel?” Kim asked. “You’re like a deer in the headlights but worse, because instead of fleeing, you just say exactly the worst possible thing your brain could come up with.” 

Soul shrugged - he didn’t know either. But also, back on the Disney Channel no one ever asked you to come up with something charming and likeable to say. Someone else wrote it, and you learned it off. It was ideal. 

If all interactions worked like that, Soul would be golden. 

So the footage, whole not technically lost, was lost like the secret to Roman concrete was lost. Sure, technically they had the recipe right there, but for some reason every time someone tried to use it, everything was terrible and nothing worked. They gave it up for lost, asked if they could use Wes instead and Kim sculpted both of their prosthetics.

Then she did a whole load of technical stuff Soul couldn’t quite follow - there was a lot of ‘positives’ and ‘negatives’ thrown around - and bing, bam, boom! Soul had a rubbery feeling demon face to be glued to his regular, but still a little unusual, face. 

And while that was all happening, the original sculpt vanished. 

It was just… gone.

* * *

 

“Oh, Soulie, and another thing for the funeral - “ Aunt Edie started. Soul sighed and opened up his phone. He had a whole folder in his Notes dedicated to writing down things Edie said she wanted for her funeral. It seemed rude not to write these things down.

* * *

AUNT EDIE’S FUNERAL PLANS

Lavender Day Suit - the one with pants, white court shoes

NO jewelry in the grave. That’s wasteful. Donate EVERYTHING. 

Daffodils only!!! NO LILIES anyone who wants to give flowers can fuck off

Wear black??? no way. that’s for losers. colors or gtfo

Sober??? At my funeral?? It’s less likely than you think??

Basket casket.

CATERING - try get a good deal on someone to make chicken tenders

If Father Mulligan shows up to take last rites, tell him to fuck off

If Father McNulty shows up to take last rites, let him in, but only if he promises to be quick

If Father Law shows up to take last rites, pour him a whiskey

* * *

 

Soul had taken to using any and all free time to lie down on ground. Just, stretch out, flat on the ground, and talk quietly to Shakira. She was a very attentive listener, and if she thought he was sad, or happy, or had any sort of strong emotional response to the retelling of a situation, she licked his face. 

It was like getting low-grit sandpaper scraped across his cheek, but she really did have the best intentions.

Also, his back was starting to get really stiff from the camp bed. So stretching out on the floor was nice. Maybe also good for his spine. 

Maka sat beside him and kneaded the spot between his shoulder blades. It hurt a little, bit in the same kind of way physiotherapy hurt, the kind of hurt that heals. 

“Hey, you know I could move out-“ Maka started to offer.

“Don’t leave me here alone.”

“You’ll have Aunt Edie and Kim and Jackie and Shakira and Hercules -“

“Hercules hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you!”

“He prefers you.”

“That’s not the same thing and you know it,” Maka said, petting his hair gently for a second before Shakira, smelling the proximity of a nearby friend who was not petting her, started to whine. Hercules looked on bitterly from the corner, but he’d rather die than appear to willingly exist in the same place as Soul. 

“C’mere boy,” Maka said.

Hercules mulled the request over, really considering whether getting the space between his ears scratched was worth having to be near Soul. He weighed up the pros and cons, but eventually came to a decision and lumbered over to Maka, leaning into her until she sagged slightly under the weight. 

“Don’t leave me here alone without you,” Soul said quietly, scrubbing his hands through Shakira’s dense fur and trying to make it seem like he was talking to his wolf. 

* * *

“What the fuck, is on my mantelpiece, hanging over my fireplace, judging me from on high?” Soul said, looking up at the… him. It was him. There was a him up there. Over his mantelpiece. Over Aunt Edie’s mantelpiece. Looking down on him. He didn’t mean to be harsh on himself, but god, it was hard to try vacuum stray dogs hairs off the couch cushions when he was looking at himself like that.

With horns and shit. 

In bronze. 

Probably bronze.

How had it gotten up there? How was a bronze sculpture of him, but demonic, even affixed to the wall? What happened to the mirror that was supposed to live there? How was he going to use the slight warp of the mirror that was supposed to be over his mantelpiece to make dumb faces at himself now? Did someone really think he wanted to look at himself, but in probably bronze? With horns? 

Black Star would know what metal it was. He knew things like that… Black Star. Of course it was fucking Black Star.

That explained the missing face cast and sculpt. 

* * *

**Maka Albarn:**

College is hard.

So fucking difficult.

What’s so good about being a vet anway?

**Soul Evans:**

do u need me to send u some memes

some moral support

some encouragement and validation

**Maka Albarn:**

Option C) please

**Soul Evans:**

ur so ducking smart

and u work harder than any of those other bitches

**Maka Albarn:**

You don’t need to throw my classmates under the bus

**Soul Evans:**

the other day u called them…

wait lemme find it

‘A collection of wildly and woefully incompetent buffoons that are only capable of murdering beloved family pets everywhere.’

**Maka Albarn:**

That was a group project.

It’s different.

**Soul Evans:**

u kno what

fair

**Maka Albarn:**

Soul?

**Soul Evans:**

maka?

**Maka Albarn:**

Nothing.

Thanks for cheering me up.

**Soul Evans:**

its my pleasure

not that ur sad is my pleasure!

duck

sorry

ill buy u chinese tonite

* * *

Black Star was vibrating with excitement. For all their shared years of friendship, he’d never actually met Tsubaki before now. They’ve never done a face to face.

And Soul was willing to bet that Black Star never thought that the first time they met would be in his best friend’s living/dining room or as Black Star liked to call it, The Centre Of The Entire Goddamn Universe.

Right now, it looked halfway between an elderly woman’s guest parlour and a battleground strategy meeting. There’s a big city map on the table, granted, there’s no knives sticking out of it and it’s only the kind you can grab at any remotely touristy location. Wes took one of the coupons that was on the reverse, so there’s a neat rectangular hole in the middle of the bay.

The back half of the room was a studio now, because apparently this zany plot of theirs was burning through Kim’s backlog of content. She likes to have a cushion, apparently. She’s already shot enough collabs with Liz and Patti to last a lifetime. Soul’s bedroom - read, his office space, the one where he also sleeps, was now also functioning as an editing suite. 

Jackie was not happy about having to use Soul’s state of the art work at home computer.

Well, Soul wasn’t happy about having to go into actual work because his work at home computer was in use.

They kept making him play the piano for artists, now that they knew he could.

Tsubaki was leaning over the map, consulting a list on her phone and marking with deliberate crosses the locations of the camera crews.

“Okay, so Noah, usually travel between predetermined locations with a ‘character camera crew’ in order to keep a pseudo Ghost Adventures vibe to it,” Tsubaki said, capping her sharpie with the ruthless efficiency of an experienced P.A. “The most important thing is that we keep him on the move, but that he doesn’t catch us. I’m in the character crew tonight -”

“Nice upgrade, bro!”

“Yeah, the editor has been cutting me in for a while now, because I bring him coffee in the morning,” Tsubaki shrugged. “And if Noah had to lean into because of the pressure from fans, and give me a raise…”

Tsubaki Nakatsukasa, raised by the internet and the ghosts of one of the most haunted locations of all time according to like, a youtube video Soul had watched with Maka last night when they didn’t have the attention span or brain power to choose something on Netflix and instead and thrown the baby out with the bathwater and let Youtube’s autoplay take them down a deep dark hole in the internet. 

It had been nice. Kind of horrifying, once they got to the youtuber who did her makeup while talking about true crime stories. 

But still.

Nice.

* * *

Soul, Wes and Maka had the easy part of the job. All they had to do was walk dogs and look spooky. 

The original plan was for Soul and Wes to do that, but Hercules refuses to be walked by anyone who wasn’t Maka. So Kim has made a third face cast, and Maka had crammed her hair underneath a wig. 

So now there was three bronze casts of Soul’s demonsona over the mantelpiece. It was… weird, but sort of cool. 

They’d also borrowed the biggest dog they could from the pound, and Soul was pretty sure they were not returning Giovanni, a mostly poodle who Maka had given a very creative haircut. Giovanni was Wes’s now. 

Dogs are for life, not just elaborate YouTube pranks. 

And Giovanni looked so cute in the little coat Wes had bought him. Seriously. He’d known the dog for like six hours and he’d bought him a coat. And it was like the Burberry of the dog coat industry. 

So yeah, they had plotted out routes based on where Tsubaki had told them camera ‘crews’ would be - criss crossing and over and backtracking and doubling around so that they would be caught on multiple cameras that were far apart seconds apart. Parts the twisting journeys would be cut with car rides in order to throw off the scent.

A handful of trusted confidants - various co-workers, an entire band Soul had done some work on for their EP, Aunt Edie and her jailbreaking retirement home friends, plus a handful of reckless gay people from Mayday - would run interference on the camera crews if necessary. 

It was complicated.

It was extravagant.

It could and would go wrong in so many ways.

And it was pretty chilly, you know, to be wearing a suit. They aren’t as warm as, say, a coat. 

And there were cameras everywhere. The band had brought some, without being asked, admitted they were going to write a song about this and wanted some footage to make a shitty music video. Jackie had taken immediate offense to that, because bad editing was offensive to her on a molecular level.

“I’ll edit it, gimme all the footage, and give me the song when it’s ready and I’ll give you the video,” Jackie said, matter of factly. “I’ll even cut in some of our excess.”

“Are you like, even able to do - “

“I don’t want to have to brag, but I have awards for this.”

“Babe!” Kim said. “You can’t just - for free?”

“Kim,” Jackie said, quietly. “It’s the least we can do.”

“Babe,” Kim said. “You should never do anything for free.”

“Think of it this way,” Jackie said. “They make the music video and the song, drop it the same day we drop the video, and we get cross-over publicity.” 

“Yeah… we were… totally thinking of that,” the bassist lied. She was called Tsugumi, and within five minutes of meeting Maka she’d put her hair in twintails. 

“No you weren’t, but try write enough of the song that I can record you playing it before we head back to L.A.” Jackie said.

And while this conversation was happening, and this deal was being hammered out, everyone else who was running interference started to panic. Should they have cameras? Why shouldn’t they have cameras?

Soul didn’t know where all these cameras had come from, but he’d never seen so many in his life. Apart from the cameras the interference hand to keep trained on the themselves, the hidden go-pro cameras on the ‘hidden’ camera crews for Cryptid Catalogue and Kim’s vlogging camera and Jackie’s camera… there was just… so many.

Soul had one that was disguised as a pocket square. Giovanni had one in his coat. Shakira had one in her harness, fur teased carefully over it. Wes had a vlogging camera in his messenger bag to use “literally, Wes, anytime you are not in the camera radius you take that thing out and you  _ talk to the people.”  _ Maka had been granted a selfie stick with Jackie’s iPhone on it, just in case she needed to comment on something. It was stashed in her inside breast pocket. Soul had been given this vote of confidence: “If you, like, really need to record something, like, desperately, you can’t not say this, please, just like, say it to Shakira.”

Wow. 

He could really feel the love. 

Maka was hunched over her laptop, frantically doing an assignment she’d tried to explain to Soul and ignoring everyone. Wes was still getting his face put on, so she was using the limited amount of time she could still wear headphones in order to work on her homework without having to listen to the inane conversation she was surrounded by. 

Soul already had his horns on, so he didn’t have the luxury of not eavesdropping on some of the dumbest things he’d ever heard. He should invest in some earphones. He’d be able to wear those with his… horns. Those things were barely a step up from wearing cat ear headphones, for the love of god. 

She was wearing his headphones, actually the original Wolfwalker devil horn headphones Wes had given him. Those stupid things had started this whole thing. 

He had his route coordinated and mapped out on his phone, and they all had the Find My Friends map open on snapchat to keep track of where everyone was, so they’d know if they had to speed up or slow down to hit the camera points at the same times, where the cars were and were the interference was. 

This was going to be great. 

* * *

These were supposed to be seasoned professionals.

There was so much… screaming. It was very Loud. Shakira was very upset. Soul was trying to get around a corner to meet with Black Star to be transferred to the next drop off spot, which was a bad plane because Black Star only had his pick-up truck. And sure, they’d rigged a ramp so that Shakira could get into the truck bed, but it still took a while and was her really going to get into it before someone decided it as worth their while chasing him with a camera. 

It appeared the crew were all way too afraid of dying.

Cowards, everyone couldn’t shut up about how much they wanted to die, but when it opportunity knocked in the form of one demon and his wolf? They just sort of ran around shrieking and trying to contact Noah, who was halfway to the last place Wes had been sighted. 

Tsubaki was driving him, and she too, had Snapchat, so Soul could see that he needed to be in that pick up truck, being very quiet and pretending that he didn’t exist. Harry Potter And The Start Of The Chamber Of Secrets Style. 

* * *

_ CAPTIONED YOUTUBE VIDEO : WOLFWALKER CRYPTID CAUGHT ON CAMERA!! NOT CLICKBAIT! _

_ SOUL: [On the SHAKIRACAM, talking to his dog because he definitely forgot it was there, still dressed as a demon. Thank god this dog is blind.] Hey, girl you’re alright, it’s okay, who’s the best girl? Who’s my best girl? _

_ SHAKIRA: [She’s just making happy dog noises and the video is getting real fucked up by her wriggles.] _

_ SOUL: [Falsely cheerful, but an edge is detectable] And my best girl can climb the ramp? Yes, she can, yes she can! No! NO… no, no, no please don’t lie down.  _

* * *

And she’s on the ground.

Oh great. Sure. Why not roll over? It’s not like the have anywhere to be. 

“Black Star!” Soul hissed, hauling on Shakira’s collar. “Get over here!” 

Black Star scrambled out of the idling truck’s cab. “C’mon, bro, what’s the hold up?”

“She doesn’t want to go on the ramp!” Soul said, glancing over his shoulder to the corner frantically. No one had followed him, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t, and he needed to  _ move.  _ They were supposed to grab Maka and Herc, and she couldn’t move from the alley she was crouched in until Find My Friends told her that they were there to grab her and Herc just in time for them all to disappear and reappear at the next planned spot. 

Shakira’s tongue lolled out of her month, and she grinned like she was waiting for belly rubs. Soul gave her a very swift, disciplinary tummy scratch. She knew exactly what she was doing.

Sly dog.

Wolf. 

“Well, don’t just stand there!” Soul said, wedging his arms between her and the ground. “Grab her!”

“On three?” Black Star said, grappling with Shakira’s hips. 

“Fuck, just lift!” Soul said, hoisting Shakira, wriggling to try and escape. They dumped her unceremoniously into the bed, and Soul clambered up after her while Black Star battled with the latches. Soul lay down flat, pulling Shakira to lie down beside him, while gently wrestling her away from his face - her sandpaper tongue could rip through makeup like a wipe wished it could. 

Black Star scrambled to get back into the cab, and Soul exhaled as it rumbled to life and pulled away. The view of the city was nice from here, and it didn’t seem as cold with Shakira lying beside him. And he’d thought to throw a spare duvet in here, so it wasn’t like he was lying on the bare floor. 

Heh.

A duvet in the bed. He should’ve brought some pillows. 

The truck slowed, but didn’t stop.

Soul didn’t have time to think before Maka vaulted over the edge of the truck, knocking the air out him when she landed on him. She didn’t give him time to think, before leaning over the edge, she shouted:

“Hercules! Jump!”

The weight of a large flying pile of wrinkles knocked Maka back into Soul, knocking the air out of him again. Not that he’d managed to regain much. Maka rolled both herself and Hercules over Soul and Shakira, who barked, startled.

“Hi,” Maka said. “How’s your night been going?”

“Alright so far,” Soul shrugged. “Lots of screaming, some panicking. You?”

“I think I made someone cry, and a drunk guy who saw me and Herc poured out the rest of his drink and went home,” Maka said, very proud of herself. Herc kept trying to sit up, so Maka had to hold onto his collar. He could and would make a break for freedom if given the opportunity. 

“How do you know he went home?”

“I don’t, but the story is better f he does.”

“I think it’s probably the best if he went to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting.”

“I cured a man of his life long, debilitating alcoholism tonight does have a good ring to it.”

“Interesting life events are all about the embellishments.”

* * *

**Wes Evans**

I didn’t bring my violin

I could’ve gone full devil went down to georgia on these hoes

**Soul Evans**

whats stopping u from pulling a tenacious d

**Wes Evans**

I’m always pulling a tenacious D

**Soul Evans**

read 1:47am

**Wes Evans**

Now that’s just rude. You could actually turn on read receipts, you know

**Soul Evans**

and have people know exactly how often i actually did see their text and just never fuckin replied

id rather be slowroasted over the fiery pits of hell

* * *

“Tons of people calling in with weird reports, lot of bizarre sightings tonight folks - and lots of shouting heard in - “ the radio cut off when Liz killed the engine. It was 3AM. Everyone was tired. The night was over. Camera equipment had been piled into the back of Jackie’s rental car. She had a velvet pouch that jingled like a rich man’s coin purse in an medieval fantasy film with SD cards. Everyone had gone home.

Everyone who hadn’t gone home could fuck off, because this was Soul’s home and the only people sleeping here tonight were Soul, and a lot of other people actually. 

Wes was taking the couch, having forgot to secure a lift back to his airbnb before deciding fuck it, what was one night sleep on a couch? 

His back was going to hurt so much for the next three days, minimum. 

Soul was ready to go to his stupid camp bed and sleep soundly, if not entirely comfortably. But he had to take off all this makeup, and then like… oh god. That was going to take so long. He climbed out of the car, but coaxing Shakira to jump down from the car took long enough that everyone was waiting for him. Well, not everyone. Jackie and Kim had already headed inside. Edie had tottered on in with them, making noise about about having a hot toddy before settling in for the night.   

He gave up, and lifted her out of the car. Encouraging her to jump could wait for another, not quite as middle of the night, day. Everything they’d been working towards, it was done now. All that was left was for Jackie and Kim and the band to do. 

Soul’s part was over. 

And he was so tired a relieved and anxious and.. Done. He was done. Empty. All scooped out. What now?

“Soul?” 

“Huh?” Soul looked up to see Maka marching over to him. 

“My Mama always said it’s better to regret doing something than regret not doing it,” Maka said, trusting Hercules’s leash at Wes, who scrambled to adjust his hold on the camera and two leashes like he was somehow over burdened by these three things.

* * *

_ CAPTIONED YOUTUBE VIDEO : WOLFWALKER CRYPTID CAUGHT ON CAMERA!! NOT CLICKBAIT! _

_ [Night.] _

_ WES: [behind the camera, whispering] Holy fuck.  _

_ SOUL: [visibly baffled] What?  _

_ MAKA: I had like, a, twenty step plan starting with, insisting we could share a bed and stay platonic friends but… _

_ SOUL: [still very confused] What?  _

_ WES: [whispering] Oh my god. _

_ MAKA: And I thought about training Hercules and Shakira to like, Hundred and One Dalmatians it, but they were very bad at it in preliminary testing so that was out… _

_ SOUL: [incredibly confused] What?  _

_ MAKA: And not to be one of those ‘mothman is my girlfriend’ tumblr posts but the Wolfwalker is my roommate and he’s stupid hot… _

_ SOUL: [he might be catching on, but he’s pretty dense so his face is probably just settling because he’s been holding the same baffled expression for so long] What?  _

_ MAKA: Oh my god, you’re such an idiot… _

_ WES: [behind the camera, whispering] She’s right, he’s so fucking stupid. _

_ SOUL: [Wes is right, and he should say it. His brother is a moron] What?  _

_ MAKA: Can we like, go on a date or whatever later but I only have like… one chance to kiss you while you’re wearing professionally applied make-up that wanting to kiss you in maybe says more about me than we were both ready to know-  _

_ [SOUL kisses MAKA. There’s a high pitched noise that probably comes from WES, and the camera wavers like WES is trying to look away and aim the camera at the same time.] _

* * *

Maka kissed him back.

* * *

One of the problems with the eight foot chain link fence and the electric gate was that every time Soul had a delivery, he had to sprint down his very long driveway in order to intercept the delivery person before they decided to just leave with the package or leave it with a neighbour or make him call someone in order to get it again. He’d rather re-order the package again than make a phone call. Or talk to his neighbours, who all sort of hated him for the chain link fence and the scary dogs and the mysterious people who kept showing up.

If you don’t know who your garbage neighbour is, it’s you. 

So, Soul arrived, out of breath, but just in time to wriggle his hand through the bars of the gate because he’d left the fob to open it on his keys on the hook next to the door that he’d sprinted past, in order to sign for the private courier service.

Maka had tried to throw them after him, but in his fumble to catch them, he had sort of smacked them away and now he was going to have to keep an eye out for them when he headed back to the house. Worse came to worse, Black Star had a metal detector. 

“You didn’t have to run,” the delivery man said, which was a lie. No delivery man ever can afford to wait. 

“Thanks… for waiting…” Soul said, still out of breath. God he needed to talk up running. Couch to 5k, or something.

The delivery man slid a narrow package, the kind that’s more like a very sturdy plastic bag, through the bars and Soul’s arm only got a little bit stuck  while he was retrieving it.

He opened the package on the walk back, it was an external hard drive, accompanied by a handwritten note.

Tsubaki had lovely handwriting.

* * *

_ Everyone, _

_ I risked a lot getting this to you, but, it doesn’t really matter - I’ve been looking for a new job for a while now, but it’s hard when legally, you don’t exist - so I might as well go big or go home.  _

_ I managed - that sounds like it was difficult, but really it was worryingly easy - to get into the editor’s suite and copy all the footage from the Wolfwalker episode. All of it, not just whatever is going into the final cut. Noah wasn’t happy, so I’m not sure how the episode is going to go down. I think I also took the final cut of the Jersey Devil episode, so enjoy that, I guess.  _

_ Next time you see me, hopefully I’ll be a producer on literally anything else.  _

_ It’s been fun, and I regret nothing. _

_ Tsubaki Nakatsukasa _

* * *

“Fuck, I forgot to pick up my keys.”

* * *

For all her talk, Soul had forgotten Edie could actually die. She didn’t even die in her own bed in the end. They were sitting around watching Jeopardy! on the last night before Kim and Jackie were due to go home. They were on the couch, alternating with Death the Kid and Wes for maximum heterosexuality. Black Star was sitting on the floor trying to fix a hair dryer, which was annoying Patti and Liz,who were trying to do each other’s nails on the other half of the coffee table.  

They were going to far as to quietly threaten to destroy the hair dryer beyond repair, which, not cool.

Okay, so it was Soul’s hair dryer. His hair would be wet all day if he didn’t blow dry it.

A commercial break came on, so Soul leaned over Maka to mute the television. Edie hated when they had to yell over the noise of the commercials, which was strange. Everyone had to yell for Edie to hear them in the first place.

“Soulie?”

“Yes, Edie?”

“It’s such a terrible shame,” she said, quietly. “Such a terrible, terrible shame.”

“”What is?”

“We always,” Edie said. “We always said it was going to be better, one day.”

Soul cocked his head, but Maka remembered that Edie was blind enough that she needed loud verbal cues.

“What?” asked Maka. “What did you think would be better?”

“I thought we wouldn’t have to hide, but it’s still the same,” Aunt Edie said. “Everyone is still hiding.”

“Oh my god,” Jackie said quietly. 

“Oh my  _ god,”  _ said Wes.

“Are you fucking serious?” Soul said.

“Soulie!” Edie said.

“What?” Soul said. “We were all pretending to be straight o that you wouldn’t kick us out of the house. We could’ve been queer this entire time and we weren’t.”

Edie started to laugh, and so did everyone else, scrambling to rearrange themselves on the couch but Jeopardy! came back on, so they had to settle themselves pretty quickly. 

Sometime during the last question, Edie slipped away. 

* * *

Obituaries

Meredith ‘Edie’ Evans, Aged 102 of Seattle, Washington, passed away peacefully in her own home last Saturday.

The funeral service is to be held on Tuesday, in Saint Antony’s Church, presided over by Father Law, with burial afterwards in the Westfield Cemetery. Light refreshments available afterwards in the Sheridan Hotel. 

She requested that funeral goers not wear black, as it was her own wish to put the fun in funeral. She also requested that the Communion Wine but supplemented by personal stocks of alcohol, but the Church has advised against this.  

No flowers, unless they’re daffodils. Donations, if desired, to Lambert House, LGBTQ+ community centre.

* * *

“Does anyone know when the episode is going up anyway?” Soul asked, nudging Shakira out of his way as he carried a stack of pizzas in. The others were arguing over a movie to watch.

“No idea,” Maka pecked him on the cheek and started piling the pizzas onto the coffee table.

“Alright, what are we watching?”

“Still no idea.”

Soul threw himself onto the sofa beside Maka, toeing off his shoes so that he could half pet Shakira with his feet while still eating pizza with his hands. Shakira nosed around, smelling the pizza, but Soul had made sure to feed her before the pizza arrived.

He’d also fed Herc, but Hercules was still watching the food like it was going out of fashion.

“I want to watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine!” Patti insisted, pouting.

“This is a movie night,” Kidd sighed, “not a series night.”

“Alright then, how about Die Hard?” Black Star suggested.

“That’s a Christmas movie,” Liz didn’t look up.

“But only like Ironman Three is a Christmas movie.”

“Ironman Three isn’t a Christmas movie!”

“Then neither is Die Hard.”

Soul was pretty sure he was squatting, like for real, now. 

But he didn’t have anywhere else to go, so he was going to stay until someone came and kicked him out, and hey, if it was seven years before they did that, legally, he could challenge them on it. Probably. Or something.

He could google it later. 

That was a problem for later Soul. Or never Soul. 

Right now Soul was going to listen to his friends argue over movies until they all conceded to watching whatever Patti wanted to watch and eat pizza.

* * *

**CRYPTID CATALOGUE (Verified)**

Catch Cryptid Catalogue Tonight! Noah and his team uncover the truth behind Seattle’s very own Wolfwalker.

* * *

**THE REAL DIEHL (Verified)**

Y’all aren’t ready for this week’s video! I’m going to release it early, because of scheduling stuff. Don’t worry! This video has been a long time Coming Out. #WatchThisSpace #AlsoImGay

* * *

It was catagorically the most boring episode of Cryptid Catalogue anyone had ever seen. It dropped the average rating of Cryptid Catalogue online by at least half a star. That was normal - the rating fluctuated all over the place, but it usually managed to swing back up for the season finale, and enough people watched that the star rating on IMdB didn’t matter all that much.

But still. 

Somehow, even with all the nonsense they’d pulled, Cryptid Catalogue had managed to still somehow have enough footage to cut together a whole pile of nothing. 

It was a valiant effort, if deeply insulting. 

Kim uploaded the video while the credits were rolling, syncing the release with that of NOT’s new song: Wolfwalkers.   

* * *

WOLFWALKER CRYPTID CAUGHT ON CAMERA!! NOT CLICKBAIT!

TheRealDiehl

Kim Diehl and… so many people (links to each below!!!!!!) manage to catch the Wolfwalker on Camera! Not Clickbait! 

* * *

NOT - Wolfwalkers (ft. Wes Evans as Miss Starr Hyde) 

NOTBand

So, we wrote this song about something really strange than happened to us a few months ago… 

EDIT: technically this was a collab, so we’ve added everyone’s links, please go check them out. They were all such lovely people. 

* * *

“I think we went viral,” Maka said, casually, kneading Herc. His tail thumped heavily on the floor. “People keep coming up to me in college.”

“That’s what you get for going out in public,” said Soul, from where he was leaning on Shakira and playing with the iPad Pro he’d bought with his accompaniment bonus. “I see like, the same eight people every day and they’re already over it.”

“Yeah… I just wish people would stop being so weird about it,” Maka said. “It’s not like I’m a different person, I’m still just Maka.”

“There’s nothing just about you,” Soul said, then blushed for saying something quite so stupid. Time to change the subject. “Did Stein see it?”

Perfect. Subtle. No one would ever notice, he was a master of subtlity. 

“Yeah, he… he actually asked if you could bring Shakira in.”

“In? Into college in?” Soul asked. “Why?”

“He wants to give her an MRI.”

“An… he wants to give her an MRI?”

“Yeah, he wants to see if he can find out why she’s blind.”

“I thought she was born blind?”

“That was just a guess, Soul, it’s not like we could do anything to find out in the pound,” Maka shrugged. “As far as we knew, we’d been brought a little blind puppy.”

“Can’t believe you thought she was a dog.”

“Oh my god, are you ever going to let that go?”

“Never.”

* * *

Cryptidz Discussion Board > Cryptids > Wolfwalker > Kim Diehl Expose

DaReelzDeadpool said:

Totally fake. Can’t believe youtubers have sunk low enough to collude with the governemt in order to keep the truth locked away. I saw it’s a double bluff - there’s no way that guy has been the Wolfwalker the entire time. The Wolfwalker goes back decades… [MORE] 

Flurgen said:

Yeah, I think you’re onto something, Reel

Jambomb said:

Why else would they wait until after the episode aired to post the video???

MothmanIsGay said:

They can’t keep the truth from us forever!

Underfail said:

It doesn’t matter what they say, I believe in the real Wolfwalker!

* * *

**Tsubaki Nakatsukasa**

Why does this keep happening to me

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank Amanda, Kat and Caitlin for their constant support. This fic might exist without them, but it would exist much more garbage than it does right now, which is really quite impressive. and I just want to say again, how much I appreciate all the hard work the mods of this event do to make it run so smoothly. I can’t believe it’s been five years already.
> 
> And I have to thank my artist, Laylanator17, for communicating to me so clearly that even my dumb ass who has the reading comprehension of your average illiterate donkey, understood.
> 
> Please read and review.


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